


Echo

by skatzaa



Category: Original Work
Genre: Detectives, Gen, Ghosts, Off-screen Character Death, One of the characters is dead to start but it's alright he's a ghost, Police, Psychic Abilities, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: “It was my ex-boyfriend,” said the ghost of his latest murder victim. Again.
Relationships: Detective with Psychic Powers Pretending to Use Clues to Solve Cases & Victim's Ghost, Original Male Character & Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Canon Ball 2020





	Echo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dandelioness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelioness/gifts).



> I know very little about police, ghosts, or psychics. I hope you enjoy nonetheless.

“It was my ex-boyfriend,” said the ghost of his latest murder victim. Again.

Liam resisted the urge to sigh and shoved his hands into his coat pockets instead. It wasn’t the guy’s fault—new ghosts were always single-minded to the extreme, especially when they’d been killed like this—but he’d been paired with the new rookie today, and he didn’t need to freak her out quite this early in the partnership. 

The rookie—Gálvez; if he was going to be partnered with her for a while (and he probably was), he should do her the favor of remembering her name—was inspecting the door jam again and chatting with the patrol unit that had called it in to homicide. Again. She hadn’t been promoted from beat cop all that long ago, and he could already see all the ways he’d have to show her how to think like a detective. There were only so many ways a person could break down a door; everything else, though, was a lot more variable.

Liam stared down at the body. It was covered in a white sheet now that the ME, Sarah, had come and gone, but strands of dark hair stuck out from beneath the edge, pressed into the carpet by a bloody footprint. Sarah was down in the van now, talking her latest assistant through the prep procedures, and she’d left the body to collect after that; she was familiar enough with Liam’s _quirks_ that she usually let him have some time with the crime scene as undisturbed as possible.

The body helped with that. If she moved a murder victim too early, the ghost could be lost, and then he’d actually have to do some hard work. Of course, Sarah didn’t know about that part, but they’d been working together for a long time, and she was usually willing to humor Liam.

“It was my ex-boyfriend,” the ghost said again. 

Liam did sigh this time, and it caught Gálvez’s attention. She gave him a look, eyebrow raised, and it was only through long practice that Liam was able to focus on her and not the ghost hovering between them. He said, “Gimme a minute?”

Her brow furrowed, but she shrugged readily enough and left, the patrol cops filing out behind her. No doubt they’d fill her in on all the rumors about his _process_ once they were out of earshot; Gálvez had promoted into the 4-5 from another precinct, but she’d hear all about him soon enough.

He was glad he’d warned her on the drive here that people might deadname him—despite the overall acceptance of his transition (undoubtedly helped along by his excellent case record), there were still plenty of people in the precinct that refused to use his name, among other things. She hadn’t even asked what his deadname was and easily let the conversation move on, and that had already ranked her higher than his last partner.

When the door had closed as far as it could with its busted lock, Liam turned to the ghost for the first time. He was a slight young man, dressed in the same soft cardigan he’d died in, his dark hair worn long and pulled up in a bun. 

The apartment had been leased to one Rylan Meadows, age twenty-nine, with no one else on the documentation. The super had confirmed identity when he called 911.

If there was something Liam had learned a long time ago, it was to handle the victims with as much care as he would the loved ones of the deceased. It seemed a bit obvious, but he’d worked with a lot of detectives over the years that _hadn’t_ learned that lesson, including his last partner. 

In this case, his victims just happened to be ghosts. 

“Mr. Meadows? I’m Detective William Everett. I’m here to help.”

For the first time that evening, the ghost’s attention was truly focused on him, and he faded a little as a result. New ghosts were fragile; they couldn’t be separated from their bodies too soon, couldn’t be asked to do anything too taxing, and just generally didn’t have the energy reserves that older spirits did. Liam couldn’t risk losing this one too soon, especially not after that clusterfuck that had been his last case, the one that had resulted in his partner being booted to the 2-2.

“My ex-boyfriend did it,” Rylan said. Then: “You can see me?”

“Yes, Rylan.” He looked so relieved that Liam gave him a second to process it. “I have a few questions for you, but we don’t have much time. Is that okay?”

Rylan audibly inhaled, though he no longer needed to breathe, and nodded.

Ghosts got it wrong sometimes; people didn’t always see who their attacker was, or mistook them for someone else, or, after the trauma of death, were just wrong. But there had been a struggle here, a prolonged one, and Liam had developed an instinct for this sort of thing over the years. He asked, “What’s your ex’s name?”

“Mitch—Mitchell Nielsen,” Rylan said. He was already starting to look a little bit more solid, which was a good sign. Liam figured he probably had another two or so minutes before Gálvez got bored or weirded out by the beat cops’ stories and wandered back up here. He needed to finish up this part before that happened.

“When did you break up?” A lot of times, new ghosts had trouble with chronological order, but Liam had found that prodding them a bit tended to keep them from getting too scattered and losing important information.

Rylan closed his eyes and tipped his chin back, and Liam caught the impression of tears running down his cheeks (not that ghosts could really cry). The shock was probably starting to wear off; understandable, but detrimental to the initial investigation. “Um, a month ago, maybe. We couldn’t stop arguing. I was miserable." Another deep and entirely unnecessary breath. "So I broke up with him.”

“Thank you, Rylan. You’ve been very helpful.” Rylan managed a watery smile, and Liam returned it, trying to look as reassuring as possible. 

Liam looked around the room once more, taking in the single broken wine glass, the bottle that had smashed on the floor, red wine soaking into the carpet. Rylan hadn’t been entertaining when he’d been attacked, which helped the ex-boyfriend angle. The deadbolt and the chain had both been broken, the door jam splintering inward; Mitchell, if that’s who did it, had to be a big man to do that level of damage.

He didn’t look at the body under the sheet, because he didn’t want to draw Rylan’s attention to it.

Cement the connection. Keep him tethered to here and now until Liam could get him closure. Preferably, with a guilty verdict attached.

“So here’s what will happen now,” he said gently, catching Rylan’s gaze again. The landlord said he’d been twenty-nine, but he looked so much younger. They always did. “Obviously, I can see you, which makes you my secret weapon. But in order to catch your killer, I’ll need to compile concrete evidence to make my case with the prosecutor. Do you think you can stick with me, help me with that?”

Rylan nodded, shoulders squaring, even though he barely came up to Liam’s nose. He’d been so young when he died.

Liam was going to catch his killer.

“Everett?” It was Gálvez, head stuck through the door. “You good? Yeung is ready to come up.”

Liam let his eyes pass over Rylan as he turned to face her, and he was pleased to see Rylan looking determined, if (understandably) upset. He said, “Yeah. Sarah can do her thing.”

He stepped out into the hall, relieved to see Rylan moving with him from the corner of his eye. He’d stick with Liam until he finished the case. That was good; it made Liam’s job a hell of a lot easier.

He was going to catch Rylan’s murderer, because he couldn’t save him now—he could never save them—but he could do at least this much. And he would.


End file.
